Where I Belong
by The Sisters Williams
Summary: When he separated from Denmark, he thought he would be independent and free. Instead, all he became was was Sweden’s… wife?


Disclaimer: We do not own Hetalia.

* * *

It was still early when Tino awoke. His eyes were already adjusted to the dark, but the sun sitting on the horizon brought with it the promise of light soon.

He knew he didn't have much time.

With great guile, he managed to slip out of his bed and dress himself quickly. He dared to turn to Berwald, who was still fast asleep. It was a rare thing, to see him sleeping. Usually the man would wait until Tino was asleep to finally drift off. In the mornings, he would always be up and about before Tino even thought about waking.

Today, however, Tino was lucky.

He pushed his arm through his jacket sleeve and then he was out the door. The jacket was heavy, and it smelt like _him_… Tino's eyes clouded as he studied the right cuff. Berwald had hemmed it for him, his favourite jacket, just so it would fit.

Was what he doing right?

What was he saying, _of course it_ _was!_

The air was heavy with mist. So much so that it was nearly impossible to see in front of him, though the grass itself only really reached his knee. He could feel the dew collect on his pant legs and boots, but he trudged on through the tall grass, moving farther away from their comfortable home.

He sighed heavily now that he was a safe distance from the house. His heart tugged in his chest heavy with guilt. How could he just leave without a word? Sweden would wake up and see him gone. Tino could see it now. He would move his arm over to make sure Tino had enough covers, notice he would be gone, and jolt awake.

At first, he would look around the house, and then outside. He wasn't sure after that if he would go looking for him, or just leave Tino to his own devices. Tino wasn't sure what he wanted Berwald to do.

It wasn't that Tino hated him, it wasn't that at all.

Tino was scared.

Berwald was a giant man with broad shoulders who was intimidating to all. Despite his gruff mannerisms, his features were delicate, an odd contrast. He was silent, too, which unnerved the smaller nation. Tino loved conversing with people, much like how he would with Eduard.

Living with Berwald was… lonely? No, not that…

Maybe it was just his eyes. Those terrifying eyes.

Eyes that bore deep into his skull and almost stabbed straight through him. Eyes that seemed to show utter confusion and murderous instinct at the same time.

But his eyes weren't always like that.

When they swept over him, they were tame and comfortable, like what he saw was something precious, something he had to protect.

Tino bit back tears. The jacket wasn't keeping him warm anymore.

When he separated from Denmark, he thought he would be independent and free. Instead, all he became was was Sweden's… wife? Berwald called him that constantly enough that his name seemed to be but a foreign word. It embarrassed Tino more than anything.

But… the way he said it… with such a gentle murmur that was both humble yet bold. He knew it embarrassed him, yet he would say it anyway, proud of it.

With a frustrated groan Tino began walking faster, thinking maybe if he sped up he wouldn't be so cold. He knew that behind him his house was now but a speck on the horizon, but he didn't dare to look back. He knew if he did he would end up turning around.

It was what he wanted... Wasn't it? To be independent?

Tino eventually calmed down and began thinking of things other than Berwald. Such as what would it be like to live alone. Tino knew it would be lonely at first, but he would make friends eventually.

He picked up his feet, faster and faster until he was almost running. His breath escaped his lips in cloudy puffs, and for some reason, he could feel tears running down his face.

He thought it would be easier than this.

Tino stopped short. He had almost ran himself off the edge of a cliff. Startled, he took a few steps back and sat down. It was not a lethal drop, but the rocks scattered at the bottom did not look inviting at all.

Tino sat on his butt and continued to cry, shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

"I thought… it would be…_easy_," he shuddered out through his sobs. Shaking, he began wiping his tears onto his sleeve. _Berwald's_ sleeve.

Hours passed.

Tino hadn't moved an inch. He didn't know where to go, what to do. He was so lonely now more than ever. His tears had ran dry, and he stood up wearily.

A rustle in the grass made the nation freeze in place.

Slowly, he turned his head, eyes wide and alert. Whatever it was, the creature was creeping slowly now. "H-Hello?" Tino choked back another sob. The rustles neared him, and he backed up slowly.

The natin gasped. Stepping onto the edge of the cliff, Tino lost his balance completely and tripped.

As his leg slid down the cliff, he managed to catch the ledge with his hand. A sharp pain surged through his arm, and he knew that he had gashed his palm on a rock while grasping at the ledge. He winced and let out a cry as the blood ran down his arm, staining his jacket. Tino looked up with teary eyes as the creature immerged.

"H-Hanatamago!" he cried. The small dog panted and sniffed his hand before yipping and backing away slowly.

He must have woken him before he left, Tino realized. The dog was following from the beginning. It didn't matter now though.

Tino looked down, his leg was barely injured, though there were some superficial scrapes. He tried to pull himself up, but his arms, weakened in shock, couldn't lift a barrel at this point, let alone his own weight. Despite this, he tried. He couldn't rely on Berwald, not for this. Tino deserved this.

Another defeated cry rang out through the air. Tino's grip shook as his hand tingled. The gash he could feel but not see was a blinding pain. "Hanatamago…" Finland's voice was less frantic now.

The dog did not reply. It was gone, for all he knew.

"Bloody Hanatamago, right…?" His grip loosened.

* * *

Under his heavy eyelids, Tino's eyes shifted and moved. Finally, he had enough strength to open one eye. The other was swollen shut. He inhaled sharply, expecting to be at the bottom of the cliff. The first thing he did was look at his hand. It was bandaged, though the blood had soaked through entirely. Bandages?

Tino jolted upright, knocking the bowl of water beside him onto the floor. He gave out a cry in pain. His entire body ached, so he quickly lay back down, defeated.

"Told y' not t' move." The familiar voice made Tino's eyes well up.

Berwald had entered the house with a pail full of water. He set it down beside the bed and picked up the bowl he had spilt. "Guess y' were sleep'n."

His expression was stoic, eyes downcast at his hand. He picked it up as gentle as he could and began to unwrap the bandages. Tino had to look away when he did.

"Need a doctor t' sew y' up."

In a fluid motion, Berwald grabbed a cloth next to the bed and dipped it in the bucket. He wrung it out and began patting the other scrapes and gashes on his body.

"Quite th' fall. I supo's it w's lucky Hanatamago follo'd y'." he murmured. Tino winced as he lifted the blankets and began cleaning his leg.

"S...Su-san…" Tino's voice quivered, barely more than a whisper.

They sat in silence for a long moment, Berwald kept himself busy cleaning and dressing his wounds, his fingers sweeping over Tino's chest before heading back to his leg.

"Once y'r healed, y' c'n l've, if y' w'nt." He only glanced quickly at Tino, who stared at him with wide eyes.

Tino shifted again, struggling to sit up. Berwald quickly gave him a glare, his most direct way of telling him to stop. There was something in his eyes; something Tino had never seen before.

_Pain._

It wasn't the pain Tino had felt at that moment, even with his bruises and cuts. He had made a mistake, a terrible one.

Rapidly, his chest rose and fall while he began to sob once again.

"I-I'm sorry!"

He leaned to Berwald, and threw his arms around him. He may have been gruff and a giant, but he had a heart kinder than anyone he knew. His eyes may have frightened him, but underneath he could see what they truly housed.

Berwald paused for a long moment, even as Tino hugged him tighter. Slowly, his own harsh expression softened, and his face burned crimson with embarassment and...something else.

Tino lifted his head so he was only inches away from Berwald's. His battered face smiled as he wiped away his tears. "I-I'm your wife after all, aren't I?"


End file.
